


Imaginary

by ChocolateWhore



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateWhore/pseuds/ChocolateWhore
Summary: Matt had spent his time alone. That's what he preferred.But now, the war is over and he has time to reflect on the decisions he's made. And the thing is? He doesn't regret a damn thing.
Relationships: Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl
Kudos: 9





	Imaginary

There were days that the sky would cloud over and I could see was gray. I would lay on my back and stare up at the bleak sky, utterly bored. Back then, I always thought there was never anything for me to do. While other kids would run around and play, I would sit under a tall oak tree outside the orphanage with my goggles covering my eyes, as if those things would hide me from everyone else.

I never wanted any sort of attention, and I preferred to just fly under the radar. While the others made playing or studying a priority, mine was staying inside and hidden from everyone’s expectations. They all led such droning lives. The same dull things day after day, and my roommate was no exception to this. However, where the others were reluctant participants in their studies, my roommate was driven by passion. He pursued it not because he was expected to, but because he couldn't stand to be anything other than number one. He was driven to be first in everything, and he was willing to push himself to the breaking point to get there. 

My roommate was not weak nor was he a brainless drone. 

He was simply passionate.

There wasn't a thing in the world that he would allow to get between him and that number one spot. That is, until the true number one had come along, an albino by the name of Nate River, more commonly named Near to the others at the orphanage. Though, the greatest contrast between the two was that the albino was just as monotone and dull as the rest of the lot. There wasn’t an ounce of passion in that kid.

My roommate, however, was known around the orphanage as Mello. He bullied the others, pointlessly ruthless. He was known as Mello. Number Two. The bully.

I was the only one who ever knew him as Mihael.

And even as just another kid mixed in with the lot of orphans, I was the only one who never gave way to his games. Needless to say, he didn't take very kindly to that at first. However, in time, he'd become too preoccupied with Near to pay attention to me. The only thing the two of us had in common was our disdain towards that ‘sheep,’ as Mello would call him.

Within two years, his attempts to surpass Near and succeed L were growing more stressful, and I became an afterthought to him. During that time, I was only around when he needed me. But then it was more and more often. We were willingly working together after about a year, and it wasn't long before Mello and I were closer than any of the other orphans at Wammy's Institute.

We had worked on many cases, together, and it was evident that I was the only one he trusted. Our relationship stayed purely on a trusting, case-work basis, however. And for a long time, that’s all I thought it was. I was fine with that.

It wasn't until after he came storming back into our room, one night, seething in rage that I realized maybe there had been more between us than I had been willing to admit. I asked him over and over again what Roger had said, though he refused to answer me. He insisted time and time again that nothing had happened. I don’t remember much else from that night, but the way he’d referred to the institute as a ‘prison’ had stuck with me for the remainder of the time I’d spent there.

He never stopped. He never told me the truth. 

And he didn’t want me to follow.

I watched him leave that night, and I told myself it didn’t matter. We were case partners. It didn’t matter, because I’d never see him again.

But I regretted it, and I hated myself for not trying to stop him.

For not going after him. 

But deep down, I knew that if anyone was capable of beating Near, it was Mello. And there was no better way to prove himself than to do it, alone.

I remained at that place for two more years. Within that time, Mello’s words still lingered in my mind, and I was beginning to see the institute for what it was, as well. A prison. Eventually, I packed up and left, as well. In my mind, I had told myself I was going to pursue Mello. That I’d find him and help him in his vendetta against the world. But I knew better, and I knew Mello. I’d never find him if he didn’t want to be found. 

That in itself proved to be true, but it wasn’t long after I’d left that he’d reminded me yet again how he should’ve beaten Near. Within a month of leaving, he’d found a way to contact me out of the blue. Maybe I should’ve been happy. Maybe I shouldn’t have been. All I was, was numb. Numb when I answered the phone, and numb when he spoke. Maybe I was still hurt from when he’d left. 

But we were just case partners. 

But that phone call...it had turned my blood to ice in an instant. There was too much noise, and his voice wasn't the usual, cool tone he’d once had. It wasn't cool and collected, wasn't edged by rage or a hiss through his teeth when he was biting something back. There was no yell of anger or growl of rage. He didn't snort in contempt with my video games blasting or chastise my lazy response.

Instead, his voice was weak and full of remorse. He said so little, but it was enough. 

_ “Matt. I need your help.” _

Once again, he had thrown himself back into my life and I had rushed to his aid. It wasn't often that Mello would admit defeat, if ever. It was bad. His entire plan had gone up in smoke. He'd literally gone and blown himself up. It wasn’t fair what was becoming of him. I knew it even then. It was a tragedy that the institute had plagued his mind, forced him into a corner. He’d been desperate, and he was paying for it.

But I’d also realized it wasn't just about Near, anymore. No, it had become something so much more. He was avenging L. He was avenging L and saving his legacy from being tarnished by that ‘sheep.’But even I knew he was blinded by the promise of that future. 

I was the only one he confided in, even after the mafia base was blown to hell. Chasing Kira wasn't my style, nor was sticking my neck out to save someone's scrawny, mafia ass or putting my life on the line, but that's how I'd spent the last few months. In the end, I think even he realized it was a lost cause. He was never going to win, and we both weren’t making it out alive. 

That’s when he told me to get lost. He wanted me out of the picture. He’d said he was taking the fall alone. “It was never your war, Matt,” he’d told me. I laughed at him. Mihael Keehl was the smartest person I’d ever known. Near always got too much credit, and in that moment, I knew it to be true. But in that moment, he was so very wrong.

I never regretted leaving Wammy's. 

I never regretted chasing after Mello.

And I never regretted finding him.

Now I'm lying here wondering why I bothered to return, at all.  _ Why was it, again that I've come back, here?  _

I take a smoldering cigarette from my lips and drop it to the grass beside me. Bleak, gray skies.  _ Just like that day... _ A sigh escapes my lips, brushing the brunette hair from my eyes, goggles lying beside me in the tall grass.  _ The place hasn't changed. It's just quie _ t. I would indulge myself in my own fantasies, on the days that Mello had abandoned me to torment the other kids. I believed once that there was a life for us outside of Wammy’s. Of course, that wasn’t the life for the Russian mafioso. He needed action. Always needed something to fight for.

_ "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done." _ My eyes open, still staring up at the gray skies, lazily.  _ "Give us this day...our daily bread.." _ Shifting to one elbow, my eyes stretch across the bleak terrain on overgrown, grassy fields that had once been the playground of so many kids that were led astray. The rain begins to fall now, and my eyes still roam. I don't care as the rain soaks me through to the bone. I know those words. _ "And lead us not into temptation...but deliver us from evil..."  _ I knew those words so well I could recite them myself. Words spoken each night before bed. Even back when we were kids.

_ That's right.  _

_ That’s why I came back. _

_ After all this time, and maybe I knew you would, too. _

I'm drawn through the rain, wandering in such a senseless manner that L himself would shake his head and wonder why I was chosen as a third heir.

_ Because we all knew I wouldn't get there. _

I follow the whispers across the field; towards the towering building of the institute. Overgrown with ivy and uncut grass, it's still a haunting beauty that brings back some of my worst and most boring years. The years I spent with Mello. The years I spent getting screamed at and yelled at. Being threatened and pushed around.  _ Being used _ .

Wammy's was where I first became Mello's tool. His dog. I did whatever he asked without question, simply because there was nothing else there, for me. Even after everything, I couldn't escape this gnawing feeling in my heart, not once he left. It was like I'd never expected to wake up one morning, not seeing him there. Not hearing the bathroom door slam shut or being kicked out of my bed when I slept in past the alarm. Mihael Keehl was not the kid everyone thought he was. He was driven, regardless of the odds. He felt like he needed to prove himself, constantly. In the end, it wasn't just a matter of how we kept each other company, it was a matter of how we fell for each other.

I'm standing at the edge of the sidewalk, staring at the cement slabs of stairs leading to the main doors of the institute. A blond figure sits in the way, leaned with his back against a concrete pillar and a rosary moving through his fingers. Leather clothes, entirely and a horrid patch of charred and scarred flesh over his left side. "Matt," he greets, not even looking up. He doesn't have to.

"I failed you, Mello," I tell him.  _ I remember, now _ . "You asked me to do this one thing. This one last thing, and I failed. Now, look where we are."

"I never expected to come back to this place," the blond says, tipping his head back to stare up at the sky, blankly. His voice is cool, collected. It's the calmest I've heard in a long time. "Matt, I was the one who got us into this, wasn't I?" He gets up, letting the rosary fall back around his neck, loosely as he walks over, his boots thudding down the three concrete steps as he stands before me, still only an inch taller. "This is where we met, isn't it." 

It's not a question. He knows that.

"It seems like so long ago, that first day. Now look at this. Back to where we started because of that bastard, Kira." He looks at me, his icy blue eyes locking onto mine and I can no longer find the words I want to say. "Matt, it was my fault. I got you killed. It doesn't matter, anymore. To hell with capturing Kira. To hell with Near. That twit can do what he wants, now. I don't care.. If I were to ever admit that I've fallen for such and idiot like yourself - it's admitting defeat. It's admitting I got too attached to someone and got them killed."

I stare at him. __

_ Mello... Blond little Mello running around at Wammy's my first day.  _

_ A kickball to the head. First pair of goggles I ever broke.  _

_ Mello....The blond who couldn't control me.  _

_ My skills used to his advantage. _

_ Late nights working on a case. _

_ Mihael Keehl. The blond who walked out on me that night. He didn't say goodbye. Had he wanted me to come? Had he wanted me to stop him?  _

_ He always had something he’d needed to prove. But to who? _

"Thanks for keeping me company all this time, Matt." I don't answer him until my arms are wrapped around the blond male, holding him, tightly. His skin is warm against mine. Warm and solid and real.  _ We never did get to say goodbye that day, did we?  _ "There was never a tomorrow for us, Mells,” I tell him. Now, I have the chance to tell him. “This is our second chance. Everything we did….everything we lost…. We can forget all of that. We can leave it behind."

Blond little Mello with the perfect golden hair framing his face stares back at me, though now his skin is charred and his hair is a ragged mess. Still, he's the Mello that I once fell for. The Mello that I still love, and the Mello that I would fall for over and over again. 

Lips twitching into a smile, Mihael Keehl chuckles, shaking his head. "You're such a fucking sap, Matt.”

Maybe we never had a chance in the old world, a world with mafia's and killer notebooks and plans. A world where Kira ruled and Near was chasing his tail. Maybe, that old world wasn't for us. It wasn't the chance we were supposed to take. Maybe Mello was right, maybe he did get us killed. Maybe it was my fault. None of that matters where we are. We went through hell to make it back here, and this is where we're staying. Right here, in each other's arms. Right back to where we started.

_ After all these years, we actually did come back. Were we really ever here to begin with?  _

It doesn't matter. That world doesn't exist to us. It can crumble, it can fall, it can bow to Kira. It doesn't exist anymore. It never did. We won't believe that we allowed ourselves to be separated by fate. By Kira. A world where I allowed him to leave, like that. A world where I couldn't protect him, like I was told to do. A world where I failed him. No, that world simply doesn't exist.

"Mells," I whisper, gripping him, tightly. He holds me, just as tightly. We won't slip away, again. "I love you."

"...." He pulls back, slightly and looks me dead in the eyes. For a moment, he's the same little blond with the bobbed hair and baggy long-sleeved shirts staring back at me, and we're home, again. "Let’s get inside.”

And just for that moment, everything is normal again. And maybe, this time, it will last.


End file.
